a Japanese expression- mono no aware- roughly the moving intimacy of things

and today still appalled at the bush scrape, and j lunching on a roof is buzzed by the slow and ominous 5 copter escort

it's like a monarchy, the ceremony of power

and my formalish lunch out with a department at a restaurant serving 3 portions for every one human- odd that no one saved anything, so much became waste

carried mine home and half a block from the site of last night's show of force someone asks me for money for something to eat..

no change

but 4 tortillas, a mess of vegetables and a nectarine

keep asking how writing can show the no-boundary of artmind and citizenry, whether to scream at tinted glass windows at injustice when it also implicates me -or if maintaining the attention toward the humane is adequately serving both principles

thinking of this and my working definition of the ecological poem: a text of interdependence aside from any mention of a blue-footed booby